


Forever For Us

by Oaklin



Series: Forever Everything [21]
Category: International Wrestling Syndicate, Professional Wrestling, World Wrestling Entertainment
Genre: Blood, But whatever, Fucked-up-ness, Kayfabe Compliant, M/M, Plot convenience, Possessive Behavior, Swearing, also regular angst, and getting their shit kicked in during their villain rant, because wrestling karma is great, dumb ass heels getting full of themselves, for realsies though, i'm pretty sure falls under the first tag, like seriously, non-consensual sadomasochism, obligatory Kevin Steen warning, stealth angst, which again
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-29
Updated: 2016-10-29
Packaged: 2018-08-27 08:41:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,892
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8394976
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Oaklin/pseuds/Oaklin
Summary: Kevin fights someone unworthy and finds something he thought he lost.
Or, the one where Kevin finds he is not the only one who can be a vengeful jackass.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Hello hello o/
> 
> Prepare yourselves for more endless willful ignorance, because there is a hearty dose of that in this one. Also, huge baby!Steen warning. He gets super weird and awful and disturbing and non-consensual-y so if that sorta stuff bothers you do not read on.
> 
> So. I don't actually remember the end of this match, so I just made it up as I went along. Plot convenience ho!
> 
> *cough*
> 
> Anyway, I'm gonna go back to convalescing from my bullshit last few months. The next few installments are already written, so there should be no issues getting them posted, baring some anomaly.
> 
> Hope you enjoy ^.^
> 
> Edit: How the fuck did I forget the blood tag? Fixed now, goddamn D:

If there was one sound that encapsulated wrestling, he mused, it had to be the roar of the crowd. The way they come to their feet for the blood-sport, shriek their lungs raw at the spectacle, blow the roof off with glee at the slaughter before them.

- _only sound that matters is the **screams**_ -

He pulls back, his victim crawling desperately away form him for a brief moment before he grasps an ankle, pulling them back for more.

- _good. **take**_ -

He releases his grip again, dropping that pale form to the mat and pacing away, staggering over to the ropes and griping them until his fingers turn white and some of the red haze retreats from his vision.

fuck

- _what are you **doing?** go back and **finish**_ -

Inhaling harshly he rolls his neck, the cracks and pops a momentary distraction as he tries to clear his mind of the insidious little - ** _need_** -

shit

He staggers against the ropes a bit as one-hundred-and-sixty-pounds-soaking-wet of scrawny, blond, dumbfuck crash haphazardly into his back with a grunt.

He shifts, fighting his own sluggishness, grabbing the back of a dazed head. He curls his fingers in spiky blond hair before slamming the moronic fuck into the ring post, face first, listening to the satisfying crack of bone and flesh meeting the barely-padded metal.

- _better_ -

(only a _little_ )

- _of **course**. he is not **him**_ -

(no)

He sends him face first into the post again, hoping the violence will sate him, but it’s no _use_.

It is **not** the same.

Not in any of the ways that **_matter_**.

**_At all._ **

fuck

His fingers tremble. Because of the sudden, unsolicited anger, or because of the **_everything_ ** he doesn't know. He _does_ know that what is in his hands needs to **not** be in his hands anymore.

**_Now._ **

Sliding his hands up into greasy blond hair, he grips it until he hears a whimper. More anger bubbles up because-

- _ **no**. not what_ -

(just-)

- _ **not** what we **want**_ -

It doesn't feel the same and _fuck_ -

- ** _take_** -

(no)

- ** _yes_** -

“Fuck this," he growls, tossing a handful of blond dumb ass across the ring. He follows closely, pausing only to let his prey get a brief sense of safety before he takes him down.

The body under his crumples before the blond idiot can really even get his unsteady feet under himself.

It's _still_ not as **satisfying** as he expected.

He - ** _wants_** \- and this is not what he - ** _needs_** -

(just breath)

- _fuck **you** , just_-

(NO)

- _this is **pointless**. not what we  **want**_ -

(no.)

Spiky blond hair brushes his forearm as the scrawny form shifts, the strands scraping his skin, stiff, presumably from the disgusting amount of hair gel. His prey moves out of his reach and he makes an aborted move to follow, pulling back at the last second and watching the bleached bitch run like the terrified rat he is.

- ** _take_** -

(no)

- _he's fucking **running**. **ruin** him_ -

(No.)

The ref gets in his face, shrieking about something and he resists the urge to clock him right in his stupid, obnoxious, zebra-striped-shirt-wearing face. Instead, he backs up, away from the corner where his target is getting his breath back and crouches down in the opposite corner.

Running a hand over his face, he breaths in slowly, trying to pace himself and get his bearings.

(just breath)

- _no. **kill** him_ -

( _can’t_ )

- _why_ -

(you **know** why)

- _ **he** gets no **say** in this **matter**_ -

(yeah, **_he_ ** does. _**always**_ )

- ** _forever_** -

Fuck

“Come on Kevin, you going easy on me or something?”

Kevin looks up from his crouched position, leans back against the turnbuckle and runs a sweaty hand through his drenched hair. His eyes follow the figure across the ring from him, as the other wrestler leans tiredly on the ropes, looking ragged and exhausted.

Still, there is a measure of challenge there, a determination the reminds Kevin far too much of _hazel eyes_ and **dogged ferocity**.

(No.)

- _ **murder** him_ -

(no)

- ** _yes_** -

To Beef’s credit, he slides into the lock up like the semi competent wrestler he is, meeting Kevin halfway and turning into his grip, not trying to over power Kevin, instead trying to take control of the leverage.

“I don’t even know why I have to be in a god damn ring with a skinny, cracked out little ring-rat wanna be like you. Who the fuck booked this shit?” Kevin huffs, wrenching Beef’s head roughly and powering through Beef’s attempt to unclasp his grip.

Beef pants, wincing and coughing into the choke, clawing at Kevin’s forearm.

“You’re here because you threatened the promoter into shoving Sami off the card.” Beef chokes out, the words coming out in bursts as he desperately sucks in air.

(shit)

(what)

- _ **clever** girl_ -

Kevin drops him like Beef is made of molten lead, watching numbly as Beef scoots away from him, too surprised to stop him.

“Also,” Beef puffs, gasping for air as he reaches out, grasping at the ropes and choking on what air he manages to suck in, “You bullied him into nixing my tag match with Sami. Presumably because you are a jealous asshole who doesn’t know how to share.”

Kevin bites his lip against an ill conceived retort, rolling his neck and pacing. He lets Beef get his breath back, more for Kevin’s own benefit than Beef’s.

(the fuck)

- _you're not as subtle as you think you are_ -

(fuck you. it’s _not_ even-)

- _yeah, it **is**_ -

“Got me all figured out, don’t you Beef?” Kevin sneers, though even to his own ears, it sounds hollow, echoing weakly in the space that separates them like a whispered lie. Kevin shifts, rolling his shoulders as a deep, uncomfortable feeling washes over him.

Beef chuckles, reaching up to wipe blood off his lip. He pauses, looking at the red smear across his arm as Kevin momentarily gets transfixed on the vivid stripe of blood sweeping across Beef’s cheek. Shaking his head, Beef drops his arm and leans back against the ropes, raising is head to stare holes in Kevin.

“I’d take that as a compliment, but you are probably the _least_ subtle person I have ever seen in my life. So it’s not really that flattering, to say that I can see what anyone with half a brain can see, if they would only **open their eyes** and _**look**_."

(fuck)

- _this one is **smarter** than we give him credit for_ -

(Beef is a dumb ass)

- _that's **rich** coming from **you** of all people_-

(shut up)

Beef wobbles up into a standing position, his legs unsteady and Kevin fights the urge to just end him here and now.

- _patience_ -

(fuck _him_ )

- _that is **so gross**_ -

(fuck **you** )

“Anyway, I hope that answers your question. I know you get confused.” Beef chirps, though his voice is hoarse and he’s holding himself gingerly, rocking slightly on his feet and looking spent.

Still, Beef doesn’t look away or seem unnerved, just exhausted. He stares right back at Kevin, until _Kevin_ finds himself unable to maintain eye contact.

It’s like Beef can see right through him, for one heart rending moment, and Kevin feels his insides recoil from the light.

He can feel himself begin to weaken.

(goddamnit)

- _fuck this_ -

(he can’t-)

- _he can and will_ -

(we don’t _know_ that-)

- _not **him**_ -

( **good**. can’t deal with **_that_ ** right now)

- ** _want_** -

(NO)

“As much as I enjoy you psycho analyzing me Beef, we are in the middle of a match. Maybe we should save the therapy session for another time?” Kevin bites out, swiping at the sweat pooling on his forehead and grimacing, flicking the liquid to the mat and pacing towards Beef, fingers curling into fists as he moves.

Beef laughs, his voice rough as he backs away from Kevin, eyes shifting around for an escape route.

(chicken shit)

- _ **exactly**. so get over there and_ -

“Huh. Maybe I was wrong. I guess you aren’t as obvious as I originally though. I expected you to deny any and all implications of wrong doing.” Beef says, pressing his back against the ropes like he wants to slide through them and flee, like the cowardly, spray-tanned surfer-looking bastard he is.

Kevin pauses his advance, pulling himself up out of his attack stance and cocking his head at Beef. He contemplates him for a minute, before inhaling roughly with a (perhaps) overly aggressive roll of his shoulders.

- _okay, maybe his **isn't** that smart_ -

( ** _they_ ** never are)

- _ **they** never need to be_ -

“Who said anything about wrong doing?" Kevin asks, taping impatient fingers on his thighs as he holds himself forcefully still.

Beef rolls his eyes, giving Kevin a supremely unimpressed look. “Threatening people is fucked, Steen."

Kevin raises an eyebrow at Beef. He rubs the hem of his shorts between his thumb and forefinger as he takes deep breaths in time with the increasingly irate crowds shrieks. Pressing the soles of his boots to the ground beneath him, he lets the mat under him ground him somewhat in the moment.

“I didn’t threaten anyone. Why would I give a fuck if you and Sami tagged?” Kevin waves a dismissive hand in the air, forcing his fingers to still when Beef gets monetarily transfixed on his nervous movement. Giving the other wrestler a impassive stare, Kevin shrugs before crouching down again, resting his palms on his knees and watching Beef closely.

“Oh come on Kevin, don’t give me the innocent bullshit-”

Kevin runs over the top of Beef’s idiotic babbling, working blood back into his stiff fingers as he waits for Beef to decide if he’s going to run or not.

“I’m not innocent. At all. I just don’t see why you would think I give enough of a shit about you or **_Sami_ ** to want to ruin your stupid fucking play-date tag match.”

Kevin clears his throat, rolling his shoulders against the sudden rush of aggression that floods him.

(no ones hitting anyone. what's with the adrenaline?)

- _it's a mystery of the ages, I'm sure_ -

(don’t give me that _shit_ )

- _if you weren't so fucking **stubborn**_ -

“You care _so little_ that you practically spit that out like it was a burnt twinkie?” Beef huffs, actually sounding puzzlingly annoyed for the first time since they started bitching each other out.

(is this even a _match_ anymore? maybe we should just sit down and **talk** it out like the **_losers_ ** we are?)

- _yeah, you **could**. or you could go over there and **kick his ass**_ -

“Yeah, excuse me if I don’t buy that, Kevin.” Beef shakes his head, pulling himself up into a somewhat upright position, actually taking a step toward Kevin, “You care. You care, I think, a little too much. If only you could see that you’re not the only one who cares too much-”

- _not his_ -

(it doesn’t even _matter_ )

- _it **does**. **not** his. mine mine **mine mine**_ -

( _ **not now**_ )

Kevin straightens up and stalks forward, listening to the delighted screams of the crowd as he snatches Beef up, getting in his face. The fury pulsing anew through his veins almost makes it impossible to speak and he clenches his fists in Beef’s shirt against the trembling he can feel reverberating up his arms.

“Son of a _bitch_ , you **bleached** out _**bimbo**_. I _know_ that you fucking **_‘care’_** about **_Sami_**. I fucking _know_ that you and **_Sami_ ** are best fucking friends, trust me. The two of you are disgustingly attached at the hip twenty four hours a day. We **_all_ ** get it.”

Kevin pauses, dragging his words to a halt as **_too much_** threatens to spill out of his traitorous mouth. He pulls in a sharp inhale, drawing the air in too quickly through his nose until his sinuses start to burn.

“I suggest you keep shit like that to yourself if you enjoy having eyeballs, you greasy, mealy mouthed piece of shit.” Kevin growls out, giving Beef a firm shake until he cries out, listening to the slighter man's teeth clack together as his head snaps back and forth between Kevin’s hands.

“Oh _god_ , you **don't** get it at _**all**_ , do you?” Beef asks with a wince, one hand cupping the back of his head and the other futilely griping Kevin’s forearm.

"You're even more blind than I first though Steen, fucking hell. You can't even _see_ what is **right in front** of you _**at all**_ and it's so fucking **_sad_**." Beef adds, flashing Kevin an infuriating, pained smile.

(I don't-)

- _it doesn't **matter**_ -

(what do you _mean?_ what does he **mean?** )

- ** _everything_** -

(that's _not_ an **answer** )

- ** _forever_** -

Kevin feels his blood sizzle in his veins at the scrawny punk in his hands.

Kevin gives up any and all pretenses, feeling a slight curl in his gut-

(it doesn’t **matter** how mad **_he_ ** gets)

- ** _always matters_** -

(no)

-and hurls Beef across the ring, watching him slam haphazardly into the ring ropes like a rag doll. Beef curls up into himself after he lands, a soft, wet sounding groan echoing across the ring, music to Kevin’s ears.

(we will see who cares **_too much_** )

- ** _forever_** -

(NO)

Kevin stalks forward, feeling thrill of battle singing through his whole body, even as the uncomfortable feeling in his gut taints the euphoria a little too much for his liking.

(it _hurts_ )

- _it's **supposed** to_ -

( _what_ the **fuck** does that **_mean_** )

- _you **know** what it **means**. you've **known** what it **means** from day one_ -

Kevin stands over Beef, watching him twitch on the floor for a moment, the delirious crowd's roar pounding in his skull in tune with the blood thundering in his veins. He cocks his head, eyes traveling along the prone form at his feet, contemplating Beef’s predicament and flexing his fingers in anticipation.

Finally, Kevin reaches down and grasps two handfuls of flesh, digging his fingers in the skin of Beef’s shoulders. Beef is barely resisting, his movements sluggish as he weakly pulls at Kevin’s thick fingers and grimaces against the pain.

Kevin curls his fingers around Beef’s scruffy chin, the little pinpricks barely registering against his half numb fingers-

(doesn’t make any _sense_ )

- _feel **everything**_ -

(can’t. **_everything_ ** feels so _numb_ )

- _same difference_ -

(what?)

“You know, Kevin.” Beef chokes, little flecks of blood splattering onto Kevin’s skin.

Kevin jerks at the sound of Beef’s voice, but gets transfixed on the tiny spots of blood now sluggishly dripping down his wrist. He can’t seem to pull his eyes away from them, for a long moment. Kevin feels Beef shift in his arms, but everything feels far away and muted, even the thunderous screams of the crowd little more than background noise to his fuzzy brain.

“What do you want now Beef.” Kevin says softly, wiping a thumb through the little specks of blood on his skin, watching it smear across his skin in vivid crimson stripes.

Kevin wonders if it will ever wash off.

(painted red. **_Forever_**.)

- ** _always_** -

“You should pay attention to your surroundings.” Beef replies, smiling brightly through the blood and pain and destruction, even as he shifts again.

- _oh **son** of **a**_ -

Kevin blinks, feeling his world spin briefly even as his thoughts finally start to come back into focus, the smoggy lights hanging from the ceiling making his head ache as he squints up at them. The back of his head aches and he can feel the sting of rope burn on his bicep and back.

Kevin sluggishly turns, looking back up into the ring at Beef. The other wrestler leans tiredly against the ropes, looking down at Kevin with an exhausted, but satisfied smile on his lips.

(to be fair, that was _semi_ clever)

- _goddamn possum playing piece of **shit**_ -

(sore loser)

Beef grins down at him an reaches up to grasp the ropes in both hands as Kevin begins to struggle up.

“Never underestimate you opponents, Kevin!” crows Beef, pulling the ropes and catapulting himself over them, cackling the whole way.

Kevin gets up just in time to take Beef’s full weight, the two of them smashing back to the concrete floor like a ton of bricks, Kevin’s body protesting the abuse loudly as the crowd's exuberance fill his ears once more, even louder than before. He braces himself to stand, but finds his body completely unwilling to comply, even as he hears the ten count start.

(fuck)

- ** _asshole_** -

Beef laughs somewhat hysterically off to Kevin’s right. Kevin turns his head to squint at the other man, wincing as his shoulder screams with the movement. Beef giggles deliriously at him, shooting him that dumb ass smile that Kevin hates at this point.

- _it's **not**_ -

(wish **_Sami_ ** was here. **_miss_ _him_** )

- _what. **fuck**_ -

( _ **damn it**_ )

“You are a crazy dumbass.” Kevin murmurs, listening to the ref count and not feeling particularly eager to get up and stop him.

Fuck.

Beef beams at him, sweat pooling under him, mixing with the blood form earlier, giving him a slightly deranged look.

“Yeah, but so are you. So I guess we’re even, yeah?”

It’s Kevin turn to laugh now, something he immediately regrets, screwing up his face and drawing a sore arm up to clutch at his burning ribs, even as the slightly manic laughter bubbles up in his raw throat.

(shit)

- ** _ow_** -

“We’re nowhere near even, Beef.” Kevin feels his wry smile curl into something else, as an icy, bitter pain stabs through him like a winter breeze with a grudge.

“It’s _not_ _even_ fucking **close**.”

**Author's Note:**

> That ending is all for mithen :3 Hope the angst-y melodrama is to your liking.
> 
> concussed!Steen is concussed. And way more honest than non-concussed!Steen. Poor tiny bby <3
> 
> So I dunno if I did okay. If it wasn't totally obvious, I was trying to illustrate that point in a match where a babyface gets their second wind and makes a comeback. It's all dramatic and triumphant and feel-good and all that jazz. It's also REALLY hard to write about without making one or both wrestlers act like the most painfully unobservant people on the goddamn planet. Since, you know, they usually fall for dumb tricks or, like, completely stop paying attention to the MATCH that they are IN. I'm not sure how well I did, so thoughts would be appreciated. Anything you think I need to tweak or whatever. No promises that I'll do it, but I'm always open to suggestions :)
> 
> Also, I'm not sure if I'll ever nail that perfect wrestle karma thing that Kevin is SO bad (amazing) about falling victim to. I'm working on it. Hopefully I'll have it somewhat polished down the line, as there are a few really poignant points in his and Generico's feud that kinda hinge on Kevin's gloating villainy getting the better of him.
> 
> Also also, for some reason this is more of a Beef character development thing than anything for Kevin. I don't know what exactly I'm supposed to do with all these background characters, that were never meant to be anything but side characters, suddenly blossoming into full blown people with thoughts and feelings and ethical standards and needs to avenge perceived slights against their friends. It makes the story more interesting I guess, so I have no complaints. It's also more interesting to write, I have to admit. Leaving Beef and the others two-dimensional would have probably made writing them really grating after a while.
> 
> Anywhoo, I'm gonna go have a nap. See you next week <3


End file.
